


Remembering Love

by Shinigami_Mistress (Southern_Breeze)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: False Memories, Grelliam, Living Together, M/M, Shinigami, Therapy, psychiatrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 23:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southern_Breeze/pseuds/Shinigami_Mistress
Summary: William is having nightmares, but the source of these nightmares might also be the source of his love for Grell.





	Remembering Love

_His excitement was palpable; crackling and dancing on the air around him as he ran through the slushy streets and forgotten, dirtied snow. A few people glanced his way as he ran, but he didn’t slow even as he saw disapprovement clearly written on some of their faces. Instead, he sped up as he raced onward towards his destination._

_Towards his destiny._

_His breath exploded from his mouth in an icy fog that trailed behind him. He had almost_

_made it. He hugged the pages of his manuscript closer to his chest as he ran into the street. A terrified shout reached his ears, and he turned just in time to see the carriage bearing down on him. There was no time to react or to even scream._

_The pain was intense, but he couldn’t even scream or cry. He couldn’t beg for help. The face of death hovered over his, and the cold facade wasn’t the mask of someone who listened to pleading. A deeper more searing pain ripped through his chest, and he knew that this was the end. He was dying._

_And he was dying a nobody._

_No one would read his words nor would they even remember his name. He was just an anonymous figure dying on a dirty street. His story and his legacy was dying along with him. Even those pages he had worked so hard to create were out of his grasp and were floating away on a chilling wind._

_Death wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was too young to die, and he had so much planned, but that wasn’t the only issue. He had always heard and believed that death was the gateway to the next life. Where were the angels? Where was the light? All he felt was the cold and the dark. It was like he was slipping into a bottomless hole of icy emptiness. Even the face of death was fading - the face that looked so much like his own._

_He was slipping into the abyss as he finally found his voice and managed to scream. A hand shot out of the blackness, and grabbed his arm in attempt to pull him deeper. Screaming again, he struck out in an attempt to escape._

 

 

“Ow!” a voice cried, “Will!”

William awoke with a start as he blinked nearsightedly in the darkened room. He could see the blurred figure of Grell sitting in the floor by their bed. William grabbed his glasses and turned on the lamp. His familiar  room came into view as he looked down at Grell.

“What happened?” William asked, although a part of him already knew, “Did I hit you?”

“Yeah,” Grell answered, with a grim smile, “I think it’s safe to say the nightmares are getting worse, darling.”

“Let me see,” William said, as he got off the bed and kneeled on the floor beside of Grell. Moving aside Grell’s hands, it was clear to see a bruise was forming. By the morning, Grell would have quite the noticeable shiner.

And the office would have something else to gossip about.

“I’m sorry,” apologized William, “I would have never hit you on purpose.”

Grell laughed. “If I had thought it was on purpose, you’d be picking yourself up from the other side of the room.” He stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed. “This sounded like the worst nightmare yet. You were screaming and clawing at the air.”

“It was bad,” William admitted, “I was seeing myself being run over and dying.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not even sure why that scared me so badly, but it did. I was desperately trying to save myself from the abyss.” He looked towards Grell and pushed back some hair to look at his bruised face once more. “I’m sorry,” he reiterated, “I thought there were hands trying to pull me down.”

“It’s okay,” Grell said, “Let’s just try and get some sleep. We can talk about it more later.” He yawned loudly as he moved back the covers and started to stretch out.

William didn’t reply as he picked up his pillow and moved towards the closet to grab an extra blanket.

Grell sat up quickly and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t want to take the chance of hurting you again,” William replied, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Grell pursed his lips together. “You sleeping in another room rather defeats the purpose of us moving in together,” he pouted.

“It’s just for tonight,” William said, “I’ll try to get in to see Dr. Pravitz tomorrow. Perhaps he can help.”

“That last medicine he prescribed hasn’t seemed to help,” Grell said, “Does he understand just how bad these nightmares have become?”

“I’ve tried to explain it to him, but I’ll tell him more tomorrow.” He paused in the doorway as he looked back at his lover; sitting on the bed and looking rather fetching in his red, silk nightie. “Good night, Grell. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Grell grumbled something which might have been goodnight as he flopped back in bed and pulled the covers over his head so tightly that his feet peeped out slightly. William didn’t bother to try for a more coherent answer as he walked into the living room.

The couch was a bit too small for a man of his height and far from comfortable. William lay there uneasily as he stared up at his ceiling. Sleep now only seemed like a distant memory.

 

* * *

  
  


Dr. Pravitz’s office was arranged in a tasteful manner that should have conducive with good therapy. A large, mahogany desk dominated the far end, but it had been titled so that it was open to whomever was sitting on the couch - eliminating the physical barrier between psychiatrist and patient. The couch itself was a deep brown, faux leather, but soft burgundy pillows gave it a homey, welcoming appearance. Behind the desk, the wall had been converted into a bookshelf, filled to the brim with various books and a pair of rather handsome, horse bookends. To soften the rather dark interior, Dr. Pravitz chose two, tall floor lamps rather than make use of the harsh, fluorescent lighting that was used throughout the rest of the building. The lamps highlighted two muted, calming watercolors of the Thames. William had once admitted to Grell the entire thing had been expertly decorated but so well done it took on the appearance of being more of a set like that of a play.

And William was an unwilling actor.

William didn’t comment on such things, however, as he told Dr. Pravitz of his most recent nightmare.

“As I fell down into the abyss,” he said, “I felt hands reaching up for me. Cold hands, so I tried to fight them. It was then that I struck....” His voice trailed off for a moment, causing Dr. Pravitz to raise one eyebrow as the lamplight played off his rimless glasses. “...My partner in the face.”

Dr. Pravetz set aside his pen and paper as he looked at William evenly. He looked as much like the stage setting as any part of his room with his well groomed salt and pepper hair and charcoal suit. From his handsome face to his rich, smooth voice, every part of the man practically screamed that he could be trusted. “Mr. Spears,” he began, “you know it is my policy to never force anyone to reveal any details they don’t feel safe disclosing…”

“For which I am grateful,” interjected William.

“But,” Dr. Pravitz continued, “I also want you to know and understand that anything you say here is kept in the complete confidence and will not be reported with the sole exception of it you present a danger, which you do not.”

“I understand,” William said, “but there are still some details of my life I’d rather keep private. The individual who shares my bed is one of these details.”

“Fair enough,” Dr. Pravitz said, “After all, that’s not the troubling issue here.”

“The nightmares?”

Dr. Pravitz nodded. “It is as we feared and have discussed in the past.”

“You mean,” William said, “that my nightmares are caused by Thomas’ records from when they attacked me.”

There was another small nod. “It’s not uncommon for reapers to be attacked by records,” Pravitz explained, “A high percentage are attacked at some point, and those who absorb enough of the records do have symptoms as you describe; nightmares, lashing out, and anxiety to name a few.”

“So it can be treated?”

“Typically, a reaper is given aides to help him sleep as well as therapy. After some time, the foreign records are expelled from their body, like a virus. Afterwards, they are often able to return to their normal existence.”

“I sense you about to say that I’m not a typical case,” William said.

“You are an intelligent man, Spears,” Dr. Pravitz stated with a dry smile. “Yes, your case is unusual. This expelling of these records usually occurs within a few months. It’s rare for it to take more than a year.”

“And for it to be a century?”

Dr. Pravitz leaned forward. “For whatever reason, you didn’t reject these records. At this point, they are undoubtedly merged with your own memories, and that is the cause for you distress. You can remember dying. That’s the one memory that is purged from all reapers upon them being reborn. If you can remember dying, your body will think it should be dead and, at some point, it will stop working.”

William tensed. “Are you saying that this will kill me?”

“It could,” Dr. Pravitz clarified, “If left untreated. The first step is to figure out why you would have held onto those memories in the first place. After all, from what you’ve told me, your life was very different than Thomas Wallis. It seems unlikely you were confused that these new memories were your own.”

“I wasn’t confused,” William replied, “I knew the memories that I saw were not my own.”

Dr. Pravitz tapped his pen. “Did these new records...make you feel anything?”

“What do you mean?” William asked, as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“You’ve told me before that you had always been a cold man,” Dr. Pravitz clarified, “Did you feel less cold with Wallis’ memories?”

William looked down at the floor. “I’m...I’m not sure.”

Dr. Pravitz opened William’s file. “You said that you were married in your human life.”

“That’s right.”

“And that you didn’t love your wife,” Dr. Pravitz continued, “In fact, you said you were worried that you were incapable of loving anyone.”

“I hardly see how-”

“Tell me, Mr. Spears, did you know this person you are now involved with before your encounter with Wallis’ records?”

“-any of this is important…”

“Did you love them before Wallis’ memories became attached to you own.”

William stood up quickly; knocking one of the pillows to the floor. “As I said before, my personal life is private, Dr. Pravitz. Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do. Half the day is already over, and I have gotten nothing done.” He turned and started to stomp from the room.

“Wait!” Dr. Pravitz cried, as he jumped to his feet. “You can’t leave just yet. You are still in danger.”

William paused with his hand resting lightly on the doorknob. “You mean how Thomas’ records are going to kill me?” he asked.

“Those records can be removed,” Dr. Pravitz said, “It’s a very risky procedure. There’s even a slight chance that it will change who you are as an individual as we will be dealing with your records, or it can kill you.”

Tension crackled in the air before William finally turned and looked at Dr. Pravitz. “And if I chose not to remove those records?”

“That will be suicide,” stated Dr. Pravitz.

William laughed humorously. “No,” he said, “Not suicide. I’ve gone down that road before. We all have. This isn’t suicide. This is making a choice. I’m not taking a chance to give up feeling what I feel. For the first time, I feel as if I am living. Are you saying there is no other options? No other treatment?”

“More therapy and medications will help somewhat,” Dr. Pravitz replied, “but they will not change the outcome if you refuse this procedure.”

William nodded. “So be it then. I’ve made my choice doctor. I’ve chose to live, even if it’s only for a short amount of time. Good day to you sir.” With those words, he left the office and hurried back to Dispatch.

  


* * *

  


William’s office was far different than that of the psychiatrist. His own desk was less impressive and turned so that it did create a bit of a barrier. He was the boss, and those coming to see him were usually his subordinates, so there was supposed to be some separation between them - the line that shouldn’t be crossed. Of course, William was aware that he had long since crossed that line, but he still had to keep up appearances. His desk was covered with neat piles of paperwork, and beyond this organized chaos was the single item of decoration in his office: a crystal pigeon. Grell had bought it for him as a random gift one day, and he proudly displayed on his desk. That crystal pigeon was like Grell in that it was a bit of excitement and beauty amidst the boring and drab.

William walked quickly into his office, shut the door, and immediately walked to his desk. After sitting, he tore a piece of paper off a nearby tablet and grabbed a pen to write. His handwriting was shaky, and he the sound of his pen scratching on the paper seemed unusually loud in his ears. It was the only sound in the room other than the clock on the wall, whose steady ticking seemed to be growing louder with each passing second.

 

_Do I love Grell?_

_Or does Thomas?_

_Is it both of us?_

_Thomas called Grell beautiful. Had I seen him as beautiful before?_

 

William sat there several staring at his words. Four questions stood out on the page, but he realized he had no answers. He chewed in the inside of his cheek as those questions seemed to stare at him accusingly.

The door opened without warning, and William quickly stuffed the paper in a drawer before looking up to see Grell entering the room. “You should knock,” he admonished.

Grell closed the door and swept inside with a flourish of his red coat. “I never have,” Grell said, “Why change now?” He sashayed into the room and sat down on the edge of William’s desk. “Did you see Dr. Pravitz?” he asked.

William nodded as he pretended to busy himself with papers. “He said that it’s Thomas’s records. Apparently it’s not that uncommon to be attacked by records, and that can result in nightmares.”

“Did you tell him how bad the nightmares have gotten?”

William nodded again before he looked up at Grell guilitly as he examined Grell’s face. “You don’t have a black eye?” he asked in an amazed tone, “I thought for sure I had bruised you.”

“The power of makeup, darling,” Grell replied, “but never mind that. Does Pravitz think that he can help you?”

William glanced away again as he pretended to look over a file. “He says that more therapy and something to help me sleep would be beneficial,” he answered.

“Well, whatever it takes,” Grell said, “I just don’t want you sleeping on the couch again. That bed is so cold and lonely when it’s just me.” Leaning forward, he kissed William on the head. “Don’t work too late. I want to make us something nice for dinner tonight.” Standing up, Grell turned to leave the room.

“Wait,” William suddenly said as he stood.

Grell paused. “Yes? What is it, darling?”

William managed a slight smile. “Let’s go out to eat tonight,” he said, “We can go to that little diner you love so much.”

Grell smiled broadly. “An actual date out in public? How scandalous! Of course, you do know I love a good scandal.” Laughing brightly, Grell blew him a kiss. “See you tonight, my darling ice prince. Let’s make it a night to remember.” Still smiling, Grell left the room.

William slowly sank back into his seat and reached into the drawer to retrieve the paper. He looked briefly at those four questions before he crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.


End file.
